


I Thought That I Was Dreamin’ (When You Said You Loved Me)

by moonkid28



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 1940’s, 1950’s, 5 Things, 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Military, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Soulmates, WWII, for the fifties, like vaguely racist in an uneducated way, mildly offensive language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-01-16 03:09:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12334275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonkid28/pseuds/moonkid28
Summary: Prompt 11 from “The Ways You Said I Love You” - With a Shuddering Gasp





	1. In Secret

**Author's Note:**

> Title From Frank Ocean’s “Ivy”.

_one._

  
_Soulmates._

The word should be good, should be painted with happiness instead of tainted with despair the way war does to everything but it isn’t. They’re soldiers. War has become a part of their veins, _fuck_ and _dammit_ on their lips as more of a warning for another word than any swear of a taboo nature, and there is no room for tenderness when the battalion's numbers grow smaller by the day.

It shouldn’t be allowed, really, and back home it would be goddamned illegal: two men, a black native and an irishman, but.

  
But, but, but.

  
Zimmermann’s their company commander and when he thinks no one is looking, his eyes linger just a little too long over unfailingly cheery Bittle sometimes.

Birkholtz and Oluransi are platoon leaders, a Jew and another Negro, and their wrestling goes just over playful sometimes. They’re in a war and people are dying and they’re fighting for freedom all the way out in Europe and when you’ve killed more people than you can count and all the screaming is in German, the rules get ignored sometimes.

Knight moves them into the same tent.

It’s for space, if anyone asks.

  
_X_

  
In the quiet of the camp, they can touch and revel in each other’s bodies. They can twine their fingers together and let their soulmarks glow softly in the darkness– a slender quill twisted around a screwdriver along one pale ring finger and the same against tawny skin.

They are allowed tenderness.

They are allowed a few shared cigarettes and smoky mouths and the comfort of another person when they jerk awake from nightmares.

  
“I love you,” Derek breathes into Will’s neck, along his ear, against his lips.

Will shudders.

  
“Don’t say that,” he whispers. “Not like this, not here. Not…”

  
“Like we might never see each other again?”

  
“Yeah.”

  
“We might not.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahahahahaha this is gonna get sad.
> 
> follow me on the blue hellsite, tumblr, @hoenursey (still don’t know how to turn that into a hyperlink lol) for more bullshit and also me being a big queer.


	2. In Pain

_two._

  
“Fuck! Fuck, Nurse, stay with me you stubborn son of a bitch, stay with me–”

  
“Ain’t goin’… m’not going anywhere,” he said. _Proper english. Maman says proper english at all times._

He felt woozy– there was so much blood. Why was there so much blood? It should stay in his body, he thought. Someone slapped him. He made some slurred noise of protest, eyes fighting to open, and saw Poindexter’s ashen face glaring down at him as he ran to keep up with the stretcher he was lain out on.

“Stay the fuck awake,” he said roughly. “You’re not dying on me, Nurse.”

  
“Think I m-might,” he said weakly, coughing. Fuck, coughing ached. He must have a shattered rib.

  
“Poindexter, grab this, I don’t wanna slip,” Bittle shouted over the din of gunfire. The stretcher jostled and shifted, and Will started yelling so that he could hear him still.

  
“You haven’t even introduced me to your moms yet!”

  
“Wait, _moms_? Nurse, you’ve got a pair of dy-” Knight’s voice was cut off by an explosion somewhere behind them, and Derek was glad for it.

  
“Maman don’t– Maman doesn’t like that w-word,” he managed, through coughing and the tightness of his chest. “Says she’s a f-f-femme.” He was shivering, now, oddly cold, but still sweating through his ACU like a summer’s day.

  
“Alright, i’m sure she’s a nice lady– what’s your other mom, Nurse, keep talking!”

  
“That’s–” A fit of coughing wracked his body, nearly tossing his body off the stretcher, but a hand gripped at his shoulder and another at his thigh to steady him. “That’s Ammi. She doesn’t say what she is but she’s got real- really nice suits, white people suits. Men’s suits with the vests and the pocketwatch and the nice hat with the peacock feather her sister sent…”

  
“Medic! Medic, someone, please–”

  
The next hours were a blur of motion and pain, Will’s worried face swimming in his mind’s eye. If he died, Will knew already: Derek had told him where his moms lived, and they were boston-married brothers, it’d be nothing for them to both get a letter addressed to each other. Will knew to tell his mothers they were soulmates, so that he could get invited up to the funeral, and Jack would give him his paycheck so that he didn’t have an extra cost to his family, and he knew that Derek didn’t mind if Will told his folks that Derek was a girl, a nurse who’d died in the war. “Diana, the nurse,” instead of “Derek Nurse”, and Will had said he’d never get married to anyone else out of respect and wouldn’t let Derek argue him down because he didn’t want anyone else.

  
“God, I love him,” he shuddered, moaned in pain, “Will, Will, i’m sorry, m’so fucking sorry,” and the medics were kind enough to ignore it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> told y’all this was gonna be sad.
> 
> ...........but i mean, there’s four more chapters so either he’s not dying or he’s not staying dead, right? RIGHT?
> 
> lol
> 
> anyways follow me on tumblr for more yelling and also me being eerily similar to nursey, as #confirmed by ngozi when i met her at STAPLE! con in austin (she is *radiant*, y’all).


	3. In Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “why do you let nursey suffer so much if you love him?”
> 
> NURSEY! IS! ME!!!!! I! AM! NURSEY!!!!!

_ three. _

He lived.

By the grace of something– God, Mary, Nurse’s Allah or his Goddess or something– Derek Nurse lived to see another day.

It took forever for the medics to even allow him to see Nurse, until a man with a cigarette dangling loosely from his lips said gruffly, “Staff Sergeant Nurse has been fuckin’ screamin’ th’ name ‘Will’ fer the better part of ‘n hour. Yer Will, I guess?”

“Yeah. Uh, yessir. That’s me. He’s my- my gunner,” Will managed to stammer out. “Sergeant William J. Poindexter, eleven oh-seven-eight oh-nine-oh, October-” 

“Alright, kid, I ain’t interrogatin’ you, jus’ wanted ta make sure yer the right fuckin’ kid. Get yer ass in there and don’t stress out my goddamn patient, I don’t wanna do his fuckin’ stitches a-fuckin’-gain without some anaesthetic.”

Will swallowed and nodded. “Yessir. Thank you sir,” he said, and ducked inside the tent without another word.

He sucked in a breath when he saw him. Lain out on the bed, pale, bandages wound around his upper torso. He was only in bandages, socks, and thin black underwear, but God, if the slow rise and fall of his chest and the soft flutter of lashes to open up to those pretty green eyes wasn’t the most beautiful thing he’d ever witnessed, then Nurse–  _ Derek _ – rasping “Will?” most certainly had to be.

“I thought you died,” he choked out, and rushed forward, falling to his knees beside him. “I thought you were gonna- Derek, fuck, you’re my soulmate, you fucking cocksucker, you can’t just go around dying.”

Derek laughed weakly. “Didn’t exactly do any of that, did I?”

“What, dying? No, and i’m fucking glad–”

“Not that.”

“The hell do you mean, ‘not tha’…” He went red, and Derek gave him a significant look, shifting onto his side. Or trying, anyways: he hissed in pain and Will had to prop him up on the bed, still sideways because he refused to sit all the way up.

“Yeah. I was gonna die like that, knowing we’d never gotten a chance together. We could go up to New York after the war, let my Maman set us up in a village– anything here would be. Fucking, I guess. S’not how… S’not how I wanna do it. I wanna make love to you, so many times that we don’t even have to be in bed to do it.”

Will was red up his neck and down his ears, and they were probably disappearing into his hair they were so hot, but Derek looked so… so sick but so  _ earnest _ , and so casually assured that he blurted out, “What does that mean?”

Derek smiled and reached out to him, curling his fingers gently behind Will’s neck to pull him close. They were trembling, he noticed, which made him ache. “My Ammi can make love to Maman with only a look, a smile, a caress. They don’t need sex to make love. They make love every second, even when they fight.”

When they kissed, Will had to fight the urge to climb atop Derek and let their bodies meet skin-to-skin, chest to chest, hips to hips: Derek’s mouth was hot and slick and perfect and he wanted to do to him all the desires he’d believed were unspeakable and maybe a few gentler things; he wanted to cut him flowers out of a garden, relish in his soft lips and gentle touches and the skin that had remained unfailingly supple somehow, even in the sharp harshness of their war-torn life. When Derek tugged his hair to tilt his head he shuddered and wished with all his being that he could make love to this man before him.

They broke apart, gasping, the fear of hurting Derek’s ribs the only thing keeping them from jumping each other here and now. Still, Will kissed along his neck, careful of marks, and this time Derek shuddered.

“I love you, y’hear?” Derek muttered into his ear. 

Will was surely blushing all the way up to his hairline, and buried his face into his neck, nodding.

“Can’t die until I can make love to you with a smile.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol
> 
> any whom uh. the next two chapters should be p long so like get ready for that kids B) they're also the most, like, heavy? chapters? like emotionally? god i s2g I know words lol but I'm fucking. a mess rn even tho my days have been pretty good anygays follow me on [tumblr](http://www.hoenursey.tumblr.com/) for that sweet sweet gay content !!!


	4. In Ecstasy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Definitely an NSFW chapter.
> 
> This chapter dedicated to loml and perpetrator of gay on gay crime [samwellsweethearts](https://www.samwellsweethearts.tumblr.com) who got my roommate on the phone to bully me into posting this !! thanks bitch.

_ four. _

“Just tonight, boys, I expect you bright and early tomorrow, we’re heading out at oh nine hundred hours. Can and will leave you.”

“Yessir!”

“Yes, Major!”

“Sure thing, Zimmermann.”

“Dismissed.”

“C’mon,” Derek said, grinning and catching Will’s elbow. “We’re gonna find something pretty.”

“What the hell does that mean, Nurse?!” He yelled, laughing as he was dragged along. “We haven’t even eaten!”

“I’ve got MREs in my pack!”

Will let himself be dragged along, grinning and laughing as Nurse tripped through the empty town away from where they’d set up camp.

After a while, Derek slowed, and he let his hand slide down Will’s arm until their fingers were entwined and their soulmarks glowed softly at the contact. They walked quietly throughout the abandoned town until a church, half scorched, loomed up in front of them, and Derek glanced over at him and jerked his head over at it. His smile was crooked and white and bordering on shy. Will’s heart fluttered; he nodded and allowed himself to be pulled in.

“Damn,” Nurse breathed. His eyes were trained skyward. Will nearly agreed– his eyes were trained on Nurse– but then quickly realized he didn’t know what exactly he was talking about.

“What?”

“This. The… stained glass, the wood, the bell tower? It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen the inside of a church. My mothers aren’t real religious people, y’know?”

“Oh, I didn’t… I guess it makes sense, with all the preachers who say all the hateful stuff about. People.”

“Queers living in sin?” Derek asked slyly, finally looking back at him.

Will flushed. “Yeah. That. But I know a lot of preachers too, that don’t like blacks or people who mix in with other races. Makes Ma kinda uncomfortable, since she’s Dutch-Irish. Thought one of your mothers might… feel the same way.”

Derek cocked his head, staring at him, then nodded once. “Yeah, that too. Hey, wanna give a big old ‘fuck you’ to the old geezers who think we shouldn’t be alive?”

“Wh- I mean, yeah, but how?”

“We-eeeeeelllll,” his gaze settled on him, warm and somehow heavy, “I can’t think of a prettier place to make love to a fella i’m head over heels for,” Nurse murmured, an arm easing around his waist. “And if the man who preached here rolls over in his grave because of it, well, that’s an added bonus in my eyes.”

Will was almost cross-eyed trying to stare at Nurse this close, his pretty dark lashes only an inch from his own pale reddish-blond ones. “All preachers aren’t bad, Nurse,” he breathed, instead of answering, because he couldn’t, not yet.

“I know. Maman has a friend who preaches. He’s my godfather, bought me a whole bunch of those candles with  _ Notre Dame’ _ s pretty smiling face on it.” Nurse leaned in and brushed their noses together and his crinkled. He laughed at him, though not unkindly.

“Are you gonna let me make love to my soulmate, Poindexter?” he murmured. “Or am I gonna get old and grey counting your freckles?”

Instead of answering, Will surged up and pressed their mouths together before he could do something stupid, like ask him to map out every freckle with his mouth– Nurse stumbled backwards under the weight of him but righted himself at the last second with a firm arm around his waist. He was greedy, but too nervous to be demanding of anything though Derek didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he gentled the kiss until it was slow and sweet and coaxed the softest noises from his lips: an almost moan when his lips pressed and opened against his lips, a quiet gasp as his tongue delved inside of his mouth and filled it with the taste of him, a barely-there whimper as he nipped delicately at his lip. God, it was a crazy thought, but he felt  _ safe–  _ undeniably so– with Derek’s hand cupping his face and his arm tucked securely around his waist. He knew it was part of being with a soulmate, but that did nothing to keep him from getting drunk on it, easing his arms around his neck to hold him flush to his body. Derek’s slim hands slid down, down, down his chest to tug his shirt up and out of his pistol belt. His hands slid around his tapered waist, around the sharp protrusion of his hipbones, dipped into the small of his back where soft blond peach fuzz collected, like his body was a landscape and Nurse some pretty cartographer, all without breaking their kiss. When they did break, Will kept his eyes closed, if only to preserve the memory of it all.

“Up to the bell tower,” Nursey murmured. “S’more private.”

“I’m not putting my ass on some dusty wooden floor, Nurse, I–” Will warned, but he was interrupted.

“I’ve got blankets in my pack. Relax, Poindexter,” Derek said, cheeky smile against his lips.

Will scowled at him, crossing his eyes to stare. “Were you planning on fooling around?”

“Au contraire, William-- et ferme les yeux, before they get stuck like that,” he scolded, brushing fingertips over his eyelids. He continued, harrumphing quietly. “I'm always hoping to fool around with you, actually. It feels good, touching you. But I brought them so we could look at the stars or something, yannow? Thought it'd be nice.”

Will sighed softly. “You're lucky i'm sweet on you,” he murmured, pulling Nurse in by the coat for a short kiss. “C’mon. I hope you know what you're doing with this, because I fucking don't.”

\--

“You fucking two faced sonuvabitch, you were definitely thinking about fucking me--”

“Vaseline has more than one fucking use, Will, holy shit, you really think i'm like that?”

“You're gorgeous, of course I do, regular average ass looking people like me don't think about sex this much!”

 

“First off? You jack yourself off more than I do, don't think I don't hear it-- ow! Hey, it's true! And  _ second of all _ , don't call my fucking soulmate average looking, y’hear?”

Silence, then-- “Alright, Nurse, i'll leave it alone. Just…” A sigh. “I’m jealous, okay? Other people got you before I did. S’not fair that they saw you like… like this.”

“How do you think I feel about the dames you fooled around with before this goddamned war? Resent ‘em like hell, all of ‘em. But I slept around so I could figure out what I liked, what people like. If I was in bed with someone, I had my thumb on my soul mark. So that I could do this,”

A wet gasp sounded. “Nurse,  _ Derek, f-fuck, how’d you…” _

“And you would sound like that. That's it. Shh, it's just a finger, relax, Will. Let me take care of you.”

“Yeah, yeah, god... oh my god, help, it’s too  _ much _ .”

“Kiss me, Will, don’t think about it, just kiss me.”

 

He surged up, mouth clashing with his desperately and when Derek nipped at his mouth, he felt him go pliant, easy for him and he bit hungrily against his mouth, snuck a second finger inside of him with the slowness of honey pouring from a bottle. Will’s body practically sucked his fingers in , walls squeezing around those two digits hungrily. Derek thought about pressing inside, feeling him around his body and went lightheaded, pulling back to kiss and suck into the blank canvas of his soulmate’s neck.

 

His teeth, scraped along the swell of muscle at his chest and fixed around the tight pink bud of nerves, made Will’s body arch beneath him and his fingers dig into his back, gasping, and suddenly his name became a litany of “ _ More, Nurse, please,”  _ and Derek could never, ever refuse him.

 

His fingers twisted slickly, messy with vaseline, then crooked up with little difficulty-- several things happened so fast that he was dizzy with them. Will’s nails raked down his back, head flinging backwards as his spine curved upwards, legs gripping around his waist to drag him closer. His head would have smacked against the ground had Nurse’s arm not been cradled behind it, but even then, it was surely pounding after the sharp cry that had left his lips. It rang out in the bell tower; that was exactly what he’d wanted, too, for the sound of them together to ring out in the echoey silence of the tower. It certainly did minutes later and again hours into the night, Will’s gaze thrown through shattered stained glass, gold eyes blown black to stare at the stars unseeingly.

 

His soulmate, his lover, his Will, came with a wail, with a hand tight in his unruly curls, length gripped in one of Derek’s slick palms. His other hand dug into Derek’s back, drawing blood with ragged nails; his seed striped his freckled abdomen all the way up to his chest and his thighs tightened around his waist, locking him there. Derek did what he could to keep him pushed over that edge, but it was hard: he was enraptured, murky green eyes hazy with the heat of sex and body lit fully by the sensation of being fucking enveloped by the person the universe had chosen for his soul.

 

A hand squeezed at his ass and Derek jerked in surprise, hips snapping forward with the motion. “Keep going,” Will groaned. “You didn’t… wanna feel you, Derek, please.”

 

“ _ Baby,”  _ Derek breathed, the simple words far too arousing. It wasn’t too long after that he came: mere minutes of slow rolls of his hips, Will’s quiet hurt sounds between gasps of “more, more, more,” as he fucked him through oversensitivity and his words urging him to the edge too sweetly; he shuddered out “ _ God, I love you,”,  _ gasped as he came, pulsing inside of the tight clench of his ass, strong legs tight as a vice around his waist.

 

When he came properly to, he was slumped on top of Will, chest heaving with exertion. Their fingers were still interlocked-- he stared when he realized that their soulmarks were fucking  _ gleaming,  _ alit in the darkness of the tower, golden and bright. 

 

“Holy shit,” he murmured, and Will made a rumbling noise of agreement and trailed his toes up the back of his calf delicately. There were tremors running through him.

 

“Are you… okay?” he asked softly, and Will shrugged, lips quirking up a bit. 

 

“Overwhelmed,” he said quietly. “Tired. Little gross.”

 

“That's all your spunk,” Derek pointed out, burying his face in his neck contentedly, and Will snorted, shoved his shoulder halfheartedly. 

 

“It's your fault it's there, isn't it? Damn sex demon. And you're the one lying in it.”

 

“True. Think there's a handkerchief in my pants, but I can't see ‘em.”

 

“Behind you.” Will went silent for a while, hesitantly brought his hand up to his hair and began stroking through the dark locks when Derek mumbled his approval.

 

“Can we--”

 

As if cued, his stomach rumbled, and he muttered, “Dear god,” shifting a little. “Never mind, can we eat something?”

 

Derek grinned, licking at his neck-- it tasted like salt, sweat-- and murmured out a quiet, “of course” before shifting off of Will and helping him into a sitting position.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave them something nice !! see, I'm not all bad.
> 
> just kidding. read those tags again. I'm a demon.
> 
> anygays, we are fast approaching the end of this fic-- I'm so sorry I've missed the past few weeks, I reacted badly to my meds and had a pretty bad depressive episode, but I really do have some amazing friends behind me who genuinely care about me and my wellbeing, so that's good. I'm incredibly grateful for them and honestly, I hope everyone gets friends like that.
> 
> speaking of being grateful, happy (late) thanksgiving to everyone who celebrates !! hope you enjoyed all the food and only got in minimal fights about politics and identity with your family members.
> 
> follow me on [tumblr](https://hoenursey.tumblr.com), where I'm shitposting and being gay and also complaining about these idiots I've chosen to dedicate way too much time writing about to be comfortable and proud lmao


	5. In Our Last Moments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for major character death, and a reminder for all readers to check every tag before becoming invested in a piece.

_five._

The scream that sounded in the empty quiet could curdle steel like milk, he imagined. It would stay with every member of that ops group until the rest of their admittedly, likely-short lives, haunting, ears ringing as though water had gone straight inside and inundated the canal, as though a needle had been recruited to ease it out and had pierced the drum rather than solved anything.

“Move, _move, crisse,_ retreat! Retreat!” Zimmermann barked out, and Derek’s feet stumbled into action of their own accord trying to follow the given orders. Bullets _tattattatattaa’d_ about his feet and he cursed, unable to differentiate between the patter of heavy rain and shooting at his feet until something hit the corner of a boot or struck down something near him.

Derek didn't realize his feet had kept running as he panicked until he slipped, mud making his steps unsure-- he crashed to the ground and groaned as his hip slammed down and sunk into the wet ground. Desperate to move out of the line of fire, he rolled, rolled, rolled, gun clutched in shaking fingers to his chest until he hit something--

“Derek!”

“ _Will_?”

“Fuck, fuck, _god_ , you're alive, you're fucking alive--”

Strong hands tugged at him roughly, pulling and shoving him into a sitting position, his back pressed firmly against the hunk of debris they were hiding behind. He wiped at his face hastily to clear the mud from his eyes, and there he was, his Will, his beautiful fucking soulmate, dirty and scratched up but alive, alive.

Will’s hand curved around his wrist and he smiled, frazzled and gorgeous.

“You down to cover me and help me fire back some?” he shouted, and Derek grinned at him, nodding.

“Let's kick some ass,” he shouted back, and then something promptly crashed into him and his gun was up, pointed towards it without hesitation--

“ _Chow?!_ ”

“Nurse! Poindexter! Oh my god, you guys are alive-- Bittle is hurt but he's alive, Zimmermann is okay, Oluransi’s okay!”

“Good-- shit, there's not enough room for all of us behind this thing, the fuck are we gonna do?” Nurse yelled over the din.

Will shoved at his legs and scrambled on top of him, settling his knees on either side and then slamming his rifle on top of their temporary shelter.

“You know where my extra ammo is! Gun and refill for me, you're the best in the platoon!”

Derek laughed, laughed at this wild boy who he loved, laughed at the wide-eyed stare he got from Chow, laughed at the horror and absurdity of everything happening to them.

“You got it, Poindexter!” he called back, wrapping an arm around his waist to steady him, and there they went, firing, trading off weapons, Derek reloading and Will shooting off. Chow shrugged off his shock and laid out, set up his rifle like the hell of a sharpshooter he was and that was the three of them: shouting, shooting, reloading, clutching on to each other desperately. Chris was kind enough not to say anything when Will curled pale, shaking fingers around Derek’s neck, or when Derek clutched at Will’s waist when he pressed his face into his stomach to keep himself from throwing up as the minutes dragged on with no sign of any gunshots stopping.

A barely-there lull in the firing became just faintly apparent and his heart leapt, hope clinging in his veins: the Germans were retreating, they'd beat them back, anything that meant they could crawl out from behind this forsaken rock. The three of them held onto each other with bated breath-- Nurse’s hand clutched around Chow’s wrist, Poindexter’s fingers clamped onto Derek’s shoulder-- faint yelling sounded, and then a quiet thud and Will was scrambling from his lap before he could stop him screaming, “Grenade! Grenade!”

“Will, _no_!” Derek roared, leaping up, but too late, he’d scrambled over their cover and was out in the open. He scooped up the explosive, pitcher’s arm coming back and swinging it the way it came-- there was an aching artistry to the curve of his body, his position like a child’s street baseball game but the scenery an endless hellscape of destruction: buildings blown to pieces, trees bare, sky grey, grey, grey-- Will went down like a sack of bricks.

He only heard the gunshots later. His world had gone silent, focused only on Will’s figure in the expanse of the open plain, utterly motionless; somehow he was stumbling over the field knowing with cold certainty that no one would be shooting at him. Or maybe he didn’t know, and it didn’t matter: not unless Will was alive. Derek dropped to his knees and only when he choked did he realize he’d been screaming and now he was crying.

“Will, Will, c’mon, you’re okay, i’m gonna- i’m gonna get you out of here--” he near sobbed. His arms wrapped around him and tried to pull and Will cried out, clutching at his arm.

“You’ve gotta go, Nurse,” Will gasped. “Go, go, i’m a dead man, i’m dead--”

“Don’t say that!”

“There’s four bullets in me! I’m dying! You’ve gotta-”

Derek pressed his lips to Will’s own fiercely to stop the flow of words from his mouth. A shaking hand pressed over his abdomen to staunch the flow of bleeding.

Neither worked. Will coughed against his mouth and he could taste copper, pulled away; his hand was soaking. He didn’t move it. He was openly weeping now, soft noises pouring from his lips as he babbled, terrified, fat tears rolling down his dirt caked cheeks.

“ _You can’t leave me!_ ”

“N-nurse, Derek, don’t... say it... like that,” Will croaked out. His eyes were red-- he coughed again and Derek buried his face into his hair to hide his tears. “I’m sorry, I had t-to d-do it, I c-c-couldn’t let you die…!”

“You goddamn idiot,” he sobbed, but Will gripped weakly at his arm and choked out, “My… t-tags… take my tags, jerk.”

“W-what?”

“Take ‘em,” he rasped. “Couldn’t… give you a ring. T-take the t-tags. Get me b-buried with y-y-you, in- in- in--”

He made a deep hacking noise that frightened him to death, afraid that that second he would pass. Distantly, he heard Chris call for him but ignored it in favor of holding him just a little longer.

“G-go,” Will whispered. “Don’t… die… for me.”

Derek let out a laugh that was closer to a shriek. “You’re an idiot if you don’t think i’m already dying,” he said. “Soon as you’re gone, that’s it for me.”

“You can… find someone else,” Will argued, faint and woozy.

“I don’t want no one else, dumbass, I want you.”

“S-s-sweetest thing… anyone’s ever… s-said t-to m-m-me.”

“Well i’m sweet on you, ain’t I? I fucking love you for some reason. Look where it got me.”

“Sugar… s-sweet.” Will’s fingers tightened on his arm. “I never… never told you. Y-you always… s-said it, but I never did.”

Derek swallowed harshly. “I never needed it,” he assured him. “You don’t have to. Never had to.”

“I should’ve told you, though,” Will argued quietly.

He broke into a fit of coughing, blood flying from his lips, and Derek clutched at him even as he heard Chow’s desperate voice yelling for him to _come on, please, we’ve got to go_ ; he ignored it all in favor of holding on to his lover, his soul, his Will, as he breathed his last.

“I love you,” Will gasped. “God, I love you, by God and my Grandma’s grave and I'm s-sorry I was afraid to-- to love you, and that I thought I c-couldn't l-l-love you. S’nothing w-wrong about loving you. Best… Best thing I ever did.” Tears were finally rolling down his pallid face, streaking through the dirt as he breathed, “Closest I've ever felt to heaven. Church never did that.”

He reached up, pale fingers creeping around the nape of his neck and pulled him close to kiss him weakly. His other hand let loose his rifle, worming his fingers under where Derek was pressing his hand to his wounds and easing them up to lace them together and feel the tingle of their soulmarks reuniting for a last time.

Derek obliged-- how could he not?-- kissing him through his last moments, eyes flickering closed and hand tight in his until he shuddered, breathing hot for the last time into his mouth. Just like that, life left him. His body went soft, hand sliding from around his neck, and Derek felt it, the quiet, the losing; a physical ache began that started in his ribs and radiated like the sun through every mourning molecule in his body. He opened his eyes and watched as the bright violet of their soulmarks faded away to red, to blue, to white, to nothing, nothing, nothing.

_X_

Derek dies only days later on a gunning shift, Will’s tags pressing into his palm as if they are trying to engrave the memory of themselves into his body before he leaves it.

Unbeknownst to either man, either boy, either dead child gone in a war both wish they hadn't needed to fight, Chris Chow sends their bodies home. They are buried hundreds of miles away from each other. Their souls never rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re almost at the end, y’all. I’m so sorry i did this to you.
> 
> Eh. Kind of sorry.
> 
> This is my first time writing genuine angst— let me know how i did in the comments !
> 
> As always, I promise there will be a happy ending. I’m sorry this chapter took so long, my brain would not let me post on any day other than a wednesday, and i’m truly struggling with the final +1 epilogue chapter, so i’m not exactly sure when the next chapter will be up. I will try to write some other things, however, so if you’d like to subscribe not just to this fic but also to me as a writer, I would be honored.
> 
> Feel free to follow me on [ tumblr](http://www.hoenursey.tumblr.com) as well, and best to y’all— stay tuned for the next and final chapter coming soon !


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